I Should Not Have Let You Go
by 221bLondon
Summary: After John and Mary's wedding, Sherlock is scared about losing John as a friend and returning to his old lifestyle ... eventually Johnlock
1. Chapter 1

**So... this is the first fanfiction I ever wrote on this page, I hope you like it. I'm sorry for any grammatical mistakes, as English is not my native language. Any comments and reviews are appreciated. :)**

It is funny how a whole situation can change completely within a few seconds. Hadn't he just stayed up there at the podium and played his waltz for Mary and John, got a round of applause for it? Made his vow, blabbed about Mary being pregnant - probably not one of his best moves on that evening, he had to admit that - and send them off dancing. Yes, he had felt as part of the group that evening, had loved the atmosphere in the room, and had been looking forward to maybe dance with Janine. It was one of the few moments in his life where he didn't feel completely bored by all the stupid people around him, but instead actually quite liked the situation he was in.

Of course, all of this was just a lie.

One look to Janine who showed him she already had a dancing partner; Molly and every other person seeming slightly interesting and worth spending time with did so as well. Only he was left, in the middle of the room right between all those happy people, feeling completely excluded and utterly alone.

* * *

_What were you thinking?_, he asked himself as he moved through the dancing people, making his way to the door. He couldn't stand this any longer, and what would be the point of staying anyway? No one would even realize that he had left the wedding early. He wasn't needed there any longer.

He grabbed his scarf and his coat, and stepped out into the refreshing air of London at night time. He was Sherlock Holmes, after all, a self-proclaimed sociopath. He did not need _people_ and their attention. When did he start being like this, so … vulnerable? He never had lots of friends - or any friends at all -, his entire life, and this fact had never bothered him much. He simply did not enjoy the company of other people, all the meaningless chatter and talking about feelings which he didn't even try to understand. There was only one exception to this, the one person he actually enjoyed spending time with, which was John Watson. His friend, his best friend in fact, and maybe also his only one.

The thing that had disturbed Sherlock the most on this day was the deduction of Mary being pregnant. Yes, there were many moments when he didn't think about this at all, like when solving the mystery of the Mayfly Man for example, but other times his mind kept thinking and thinking about this fetus and how it would change everything.

"It changes people, marriage," was what Mrs. Hudson had told him, and he didn't think this was true at first. But the nearer the wedding day came, the more nervous he got about what people told him. And even though he still didn't think tthe fact that Mary Morstan had changed her last name to Watson and she and John had put a ring on their finger would interfere with the way he and John solved crimes together, he had to admit that having a child certainly would do so. And he hated that thought. He simply couldn't stand it.

* * *

Sherlock wandered randomly through the streets of London, not knowing what to do with himself. To make an effort he fished his phone out of his pocket and called Mycroft, but surprisingly his brother didn't answer, leaving Sherlock alone with his sorrows.

He spotted a pub on the next corner and walked towards it with a sigh. Upon entering he saw that he had made a good choice: The pub was empty except for an old man sitting in a corner his back towards the door, and another man in his mid-thirties at the far end of the bar who was already completely drunk and whining because his wife had told him she wanted a divorce earlier this evening. Sherlock sat down on one of the bar stools, and in one of the rare moments that the barkeeper looked up from his phone, on which he was constantly texting his best friend's girlfriend, the man noticed the new customer and made Sherlock the drink which he had ordered.

* * *

Yes, that was his plan for tonight: Getting drunk and forget about everything, at least for the moment. He didn't want to think about the baby and what it meant for him, because he knew that from now on everything would become how it had been years ago. He would be all alone in his flat day after day, listening to Mycroft's comments about his use of drugs, and solving mostly boring crimes for Scotland Yard while getting called a freak by this stupid Sally Donovan. All situations that hadn't bothered him earlier in his life, but things had changed since then. _He_ had changed. And the only reason for this change was John Watson, who had completely turned Sherlock's life around.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here it is, chapter two! I hope you'll enjoy reading it, and, once again, I'm very thankful for every review or critique. :)**

The day after the wedding Sherlock woke up on the couch, slightly confused by the events of the past evening and by the fact that he couldn't quite remember them all. He swung his legs from the couch and tried to walk to the kitchen, which was much harder than he thought it would be. No, alcohol really wasn't his thing. (Except for the one time he and John had gotten drunk, but that had been barely for an experimental purpose.) But getting drunk surely had its benefits - he had made it through the rest of the night without thinking anymore about John.

After Sherlock had made himself a cup of coffee, he took his phone out of his coat which he had just thrown on his chair the previous night. As he checked if he had any new texts, he realized the time appearing in big numbers on this display. It was already two in the afternoon, a deduction he could have easily made if he had just looked out of the window once or listened to the noise from the streets, but his mind was still not focused enough to do this.

The only new text he'd gotten was from Mycroft. "Did you enjoy the wedding, brother dear?" Sherlock didn't made the effort to answer his brother's question. So, what should he do for the rest of the day? His mailbox was probably bursting with new cases, and the fridge - the whole kitchen, in fact - was filled with interesting experiences that he had to complete.

He slipped his phone in his pocket, turned around and went back to the couch where he had woken up not even half an hour ago, to get over the remaining hours of this day by watching some crappy tv shows.

* * *

Two days later, Sherlock got a call from Lestrade who needed his help with a case in Finsbury Park. He took a cab and arrived at the park within a few minutes, spotting the police cordon from distance.

"Sherlock," the DI greeted him as he saw the tall man walking towards him, "how are you?"

"Fine," he answered, a little puzzled.

"Hope you enjoyed the wedding." Lestrade smiled at him, obviously waiting for an answer to this non-question. "I did indeed," Sherlock responded.

"Do you know how long John and Mary will be on their honeymoon?"

"Sex holiday. And no, I don't know how long it will last."

"Sex holiday?"

"Oh come on Gavin, we're all grown ups, we might as well call it by name. Now, can we move on from this smalltalk? What do we got? Where's the body?"

Lestrade shook his head in disbelieve, but still let Sherlock to the water where an elderly man was laying, completely naked.

"Two kids found them earlier this morning, saw his foot in the water and dragged him out," he explained, while Sherlock made his way around the body. "We don't have any papers, no name, the fingerprints didn't match to any of those we have in our register. The colleague's have taken some blood examples to see if w-" Sherlock cut him off in the middle of the sentence: "Gary Rupert, has been homeless for twelve years after his wife had left him, never tried drugs or drank alcohol. Usually he has been strolling around the city centre, never north of the Thames though. Very unlikely he got killed here; the murderer must have dumped the dead body in here somewhere between, let's say, one and two in the morning."

"Well that's great, now we finally have something we can work with. That's fantastic, Sherlock."

"I haven't even started to talk about the murder itself yet," Sherlock said, looking like a kid who was told to go to bed in the middle of playing with his favorite toy. "Oh, of course, go on then."

After Sherlock had made all of his deductions, he wanted to leave again for Baker Street to finish up his experiments with orthophosphoric acid and it's influence on different aged parts of the human body, but Lestrade held him by his arm to stop him from just walking away.

"Sherlock, I was just wondering if you'd maybe like to meet up later today in a pub? Just have one or two beer, talk a bit, you know…"

No, Sherlock did not know, but it occurred to him that this was the kind of thing normal people did on a free evening. John had regularly met with some of his friends in a bar. He also had invited Sherlock to join the group, who had refused this offer in a way that had made John never ask again.

"Mhm, no, thank you," Sherlock finally responded. "I'm afraid I won't have time for such a … thing tonight." With that, he turned around and left Lestrade, the dead Gary Rupert, and the remaining policemen behind.

* * *

The next few weeks Sherlock kept himself busy with experiments and solving Scotland Yard's cases. After John and Mary had come back to their London apartment, he and John had only exchanged two text messages in which John had explained he was rather busy at work at the moment so he did not have much time left to hang out with friends and such, but he was hoping to see Sherlock later this month.

Sherlock was just browsing through his emails hoping to find a new client as his phone rang. Recognizing Molly Hooper's number, he answered the call. "Hi Sherlock, this is Molly! I'm having a, uhm, head here for you, just in case you might want it for an experiment."

"Yes, I'll be at the hospital in just a minute." He was about to end the call, but quickly added a "thank you, Molly."

"Okay." He heard the smile in her voice. "See you then."  
"Yes, see you." He closed his laptop and headed off to St. Bart's Hospital.


	3. Chapter 3

**First of all, let me tell you that I am so so sorry that it took me so long to upload this chapter. I've been traveling from Norway back to Germany, where I've barely been home for a night to do some laundry and pack my suitcase again, before I headed off to visit some friends around the country. And now this week school has started again, so there really was no time for writing. But I promise the next chapter won't take me that long to upload!**  
**Also I wanted to thank you guys for reading this little story, it means a lot. :)**

Molly was already waiting for Sherlock in her lab at St. Bart's Hospital, greeting him with her usual friendly smile. "Hi, Sherlock. I'm glad you could come."

"Hello Molly." He looked around the room, asking "Where's the head you were talking about?"

"Um, I thought maybe we could have a little chat before you leave. How have you been doing lately?"

"Why is everyone asking me how I'm doing? I'm fine, perfectly fine."

Molly raised an eyebrow, but nodded eventually. "So what do you say? Do you want to stay for a little while? I could make some tea."

Sherlock sighed, but sat down on one of the chairs.  
"Great," Molly said, and left the room to get the tea. As she returned five minutes later she sat down opposite to Sherlock, who hadn't moved at all while she was gone. She took a sip from her tea before she started speaking, not looking at Sherlock: "Well, Mrs. Hudson, Greg, and I have just been a bit worried about you since the wedding and everything."

Sherlock gave Molly a confused look. "Why would you worry about me? It's not like the wedding has changed anything."

"I know that you and John have been very close to each other, and now he's spending all of his time with Mary or at work in the hospital. Don't you miss him? And don't lie to me, Sherlock!"

It took him a while to answer Molly. He trusted her completely, but what could he say to make her understand his situation? Finally, he said: "Of course I miss him. I miss him every day, every second. But I simply can't spend time with him anymore."

"Why not?"

"Because he has his own family now, he doesn't need a sociopath like me around to take care of. He's better off on his own."

"So you're just going to let him slip away, give up on your friendship?"

Sherlock shrugged, looking completely helpless. All the walls he had built up to keep people out suddenly broke down, leaving only a little boy who didn't know how to deal with the situation he was in. "I… I don't know what to do. John means everything to me. And now that I don't see him anymore, not even a few hours a week to work on cases together, it just feels like I'm losing the point."

"The point of what?"

"The point of living."

"Oh Sherlock." Molly sighed. "You love him."

"Yes, I … wait, what? I don't _love_ him. We're just friends."

"Don't be stupid, of course you love him. It's so obvious." She got really excited about her discovery while she continued talking. "You know, I always thought you did, to be honest. You two are just so made for each other."

Sherlock thought about Molly's words for a while. _You love him._ Did he? The answer was clear.

"I love him," he said, gazing into space, and felt a sudden happiness spread all through his body.

"Aww, you said it! That's so great!" Molly smiled at him, but then her smile faded away. She had the same thoughts Sherlock had at this moment, that John was happily married to Mary.

"And what am I going to do now? Knowing that I love John doesn't make anything easier. He's obviously not gay, and has a happy new life with Mary. I don't think he returns any of the feelings I have for him."

"That's the thing about love," Molly said, giving him a sad smile, "sometimes the feelings we have towards a person simply don't get returned. … But, I don't think that John doesn't have feelings for you. It always seemed to me like he saw more in you than just a friend, even though he always said that he was straight. Maybe he just wasn't sure about his feelings towards you either, and both of you just missed the chance of talking to each other about it?"

Sherlock considered that for a moment, but told himself that this would be too good to be true. He couldn't survive getting all hopeful again, just to hear that John didn't care about him at all. No, better stay realistic and don't get too cheered up.

"And what am I going to do now?" he asked.

"Well, that's a very good question…"


	4. Chapter 4

When Sherlock left Molly to head back to his flat, all the happiness he had felt a few minutes ago was completely gone, leaving only an empty feeling at the place where his heart should be pumping blood through his body. How did discovering his true feelings about John help him? After all it made him only seem more stupid. He had spent years living in the one flat with John and had spent most of his time with him, but had never made any effort to make more out of their relationship than just a friendship. "You didn't know what love was back then," Molly had told him, but still. And now it was too late to reveal his feelings for John since he did not want to interfere in John's relationship with Mary, both Molly and Sherlock had agreed.

* * *

So Sherlock simply had to act like nothing had changed. And he tried, he really did, when John and Mary invited him and some other friends over for dinner a few days later. But the truth was that he couldn't stand seeing the two of them together, no matter how hard he tried to be happy for them and forget about his own feelings. Maybe it would have been easier if he could just hate Mary, but she was way too nice to John to say anything bad about her. And while Mary and John were showing him the first ultrasound image of their baby, Sherlock made the decision not to spend time with them any more.

* * *

It all worked out very well for the next three months. Sherlock had convinced himself he didn't need anyone's company, and had completely ignored anyone trying to contact him since the dinner at John and Mary's, except for Mrs. Hudson. He ignored John's texts, didn't answer his calls, pretended he wasn't home when John came around to visit. He could have gone on like this for quite a while, if John wouldn't have burst into his room one afternoon, catching Sherlock in the middle of playing his violin.

Sherlock stood still, looking at John with a surprised look on his face.

John was obviously angry, and immediately started screaming at Sherlock: "Why does Mrs. Hudson keep telling me you're working on a case in Edinburgh when I can hear you playing your bloody violin upstairs?"

Sherlock didn't answer and seemed to have fallen in a state of shock.

"What's your fucking problem, Sherlock? We've all been worrying about you, and you're just ignoring everyone! I know that you don't care much about social relationships, but I thought that you would at least have the decency to answer some of my texts once in a while. If you don't want to spend time with me or anyone else anymore, fine. I can leave right now and you'll never have to see me again."

"John, I…" Sherlock tried to find the right words. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt anyone, especially not you." As John looked still as angry as he had before, he added: "Oh please, could you stop giving me that look now, I just apologized to you."

John shook his head but took a deep breath to calm himself down instead of punching Sherlock in the face.

"I just want to know why, Sherlock. Why do you have to behave like such a complete dickhead all the time?"

"I'm sorry," Sherlock whispered, again.

John looked at him, the anger finally disappearing from his face.

"You know, the reason why I actually came tonight… I, eh, wanted to tell you something."

Sherlock tried to deduce what John was about to tell him. His body was slightly shaking, his voice was about to break, and he had this sad look on his face.

"Mary has lost the baby."


End file.
